


Simple

by Yaminouchi (Asphyxia)



Category: Gravitation
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 21:20:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3462473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asphyxia/pseuds/Yaminouchi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After he and Eiri return from New York, Tohma doesn't want to talk about it. Somehow, Ryuichi always has a way of changing his mind. (Pastfic)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Simple

The thing about Ryuichi Sakuma is that he always knows how to get what he wants.

Like right now, for instance, when Tohma is trying so hard (but not really) to show some self-restraint and he’s looking at him with those ridiculously intense eyes like he _knows_ what he does to him. Like he knows how much power he has over this person who has always been so adamant about having control in every facet of his life. And the funny part is, he’s pretty sure Ryuichi _doesn’t_ know. 

Tohma Seguchi has known Ryuichi long enough to understand that he’s not 100% an idiot. That some of that childlike innocent and naïveté is more for show than anything, so people won’t expect too much of him because Ryuichi really can’t handle stress. But he is still an idiot, and he’s still blissfully unaware of his effect on people, even to this day. It’s up for debate, though, whether he knows that he can always get what he wants from Tohma. But maybe it doesn’t matter, because though he’s loathe to admit it, it’s always the same thing Tohma wants, too. You can’t have a successful band—and they _are_ successful—without being on the same page, and sometimes it scares Tohma how deeply their desires intertwine. 

“I have paperwork to do,” Tohma reminds him, calmly and pleasantly, eyes not lifting from the ledger he’s running through. But Ryuichi is nothing if not singleminded in all his simplicity, and he sits on the edge of the desk and watches, his stuffed rabbit left in the chair meant for visitors and his body language somewhat tense. When Tohma took on the enormous task of being both keyboardist and producer of Nittle Grasper, he knew what he was getting himself into. But tonight, it’s hard to concentrate. It’s hard to think. Because this morning, his flight from New York came back, and he entered Japan with Eiri, but it’s hard to think that he’s the same boy he knows because he’s gone quiet and he’s sad and dark and his eyes stare off into nothing. 

The crying finally stopped at three in the morning in Tohma’s apartment in New York, and when Eiri finally drifted off to sleep curled into a ball in Tohma’s bed he started making the necessary arrangements and flights and calls to his connections. By morning he had their tickets back to Japan and he had begun the process of pulling the strings he needed to to keep Eiri from going to prison for murder. Everything was in order, and Tohma’s specialty is putting things in order. But he couldn’t fix the wounds left on Eiri, wounds he couldn’t see outwardly but wounds that manifested themselves in the form of Eiri flinching from every noise, of him waking up shivering every few hours. That night, Tohma didn’t sleep, because Eiri needed him. And Tohma hasn’t slept since.

Now, the sixteen-year-old is asleep in Tohma’s room in his apartment in Tokyo while Tohma works through Nittle Grasper’s finances, checking for errors he knows there are none of. He’s checked it a thousand times. He knows inevitably he’ll have to send Eiri back to Kyoto, knows he’ll have to let him go back to his life, but for the moment, he doesn’t want to let him go. Keeping him close, he knows he’s safe. Because it just keeps echoing through his head; Tohma caused this. And now, Eiri is broken and bruised and hurt and lost because Tohma went against his instincts, let that damn Kitazawa close to Eiri. Once the crying stopped, there was nothing. Eiri has barely spoken since, hasn’t eaten, hasn’t cried. Hasn’t really even moved. 

And now, Ryuichi is here. He’s been here for hours. And Tohma knows what he wants. He wants him to _talk_. But really, honestly, Tohma can’t. If Tohma knew what to say, if _talking_ was so easy, he’d have done it by now. But he hasn’t. He’s simply sat here, poring over paper after paper, and Ryuichi has watched him with those intense eyes of his, knowing full well that eventually, he’s going to need him. Because Tohma always does.

“You don’t,” Ryuichi responds finally. “Tohma, you’ve been over that folder a million times! You’re scaring me a little.”

“Oh? I apologize, that was not my intention,” Tohma says quickly, but his tone wavers, and Ryuichi leans in a little. 

“Tohma,” he says finally, softly. And he’s doing it again; he’s using that tone, like he knows Tohma, knows all of his fears and secrets and all of the things he hides even from himself. And the worst part is that he _does_. Ryuichi Sakuma knows Tohma Seguchi in a way he could never hope to know himself, and when he finally does look up, the singer is only about a foot away, and his hand comes out and falls to Tohma’s cheek. The warmth of his palm is soothing, and Tohma lets it stay there while the two men lock eyes for one long, intimate moment that Tohma knows will be the death of him in the arena of him managing to keep himself together. 

“Ryuichi, I don’t…” _want to talk_.

“I know,” Ryuichi responds, nodding slightly, and then he hops down off the desk with all the grace of a little cat and wraps his arms around Tohma’s neck, pulling his stiff and tense body in to press to his. Ryuichi smells like chocolate and cologne and that body glitter he’s always rubbing himself in on stage, even though he isn’t wearing any right now, and he puts his head on Tohma’s shoulder and presses his warm cheek to his. After a moment of silence, he speaks. “I’m sorry.”

It’s an unexpected phrase, but against his better judgment, Tohma breaks on it. He squeezes his eyes shut, hard, and he can feel the acrid heat of the tears starting to work their way out between the iron grip of his lids and lashes. He shakes a little, and Ryuichi just embraces him tighter and somehow he’s ended up in Tohma’s lap but now they’re holding each other and Tohma’s crying because he really fucked up this time, let his poor judgment ruin the life of an innocent young boy and there’s nothing he can ever do to fix it. And Ryuichi is crying because he always cries when Tohma cries, so they simply sit there sobbing and holding each other, and Ryuichi kisses his cheek a few times because affection is the only weapon he has against the pain that’s plaguing Tohma. 

“It’s my fault,” Tohma manages to gasp eventually, through his tears that don’t seem like they’re ever going to stop. He remained calm and strong for Eiri, because he needed him that way. But Ryuichi never needs him to be anything and right now, he’s grateful for that for once. Ryuichi jolts slightly, seeming alarmed, and squeezes him a little tighter. 

“No it’s not,” he tells him, blissfully naïve and unaware that Tohma is, in his own eyes, inescapably to blame. “I introduced them. I left them alone together. Because of me, Eiri…”

He trails off, and Ryuichi gives him another squeeze and shivers a little, and then shakes his head intensely. “It’s not your fault, Tohma!” he informs him, tone adamant and tearful and somehow even though his tears so, so firm. “You didn’t know. You were just trying to help him. You didn’t do anything wrong!”

“It was my fault,” Tohma echoes, closing his eyes and burying his face into Ryuichi’s shoulder. He feels exhausted and his head hurts from crying and now, all he can think about is forgetting all of this for the night. Ryuichi just keeps shaking his head, and Tohma keeps insisting that he’s to blame, and in the end it becomes nothing but a repetitive, painful mess. Eventually, he’s aware of Ryuichi helping him to the sofa, and he’s continually whispering assurances of how Tohma is innocent, but he doesn’t _feel_ innocent. He feels guilty and dirty and wrong, full of the knowledge that he irreparably destroyed the life of someone he cares for and there’s nothing he can do to fix it. Ryuichi can argue all he wants, but Tohma knows the truth. 

The night blurs into a painful series of bouts of crying and moments of silence, and through it all Ryuichi stays and inadvertently reminds Tohma for what is probably the thousandth time that he’s not as simple as he lets everyone believe. Ryuchi whispers words of quiet assurance and stays with him in these moments when he feels utterly alone in the world and he thinks at one point the singer kisses him, but it all blurs together until when the sun starts to rise above the horizon, his head is in Ryuichi’s lap and Tohma’s finally starting to drift into unconsciousness with his vocalist’s hand in his hair and his strong heartbeat close by.

He wants to say ‘thank you’, but words fail him. Thankfully, with Ryuichi, words are rarely necessary. Tohma allows himself to start to drift toward blissful nothingness and even in his dim and tired state, he can realize that he can’t let anything like this happen ever again; he has to protect Eiri.

Whatever the cost, from this time on, Tohma knows he’s going to have to keep a more vigilant eye on his future brother-in-law. He’ll stay close and he’ll provide guidance and if he needs to, he will chase anyone and everyone from the boy’s life if it means avoiding putting him through anything else that might cause him any pain. It’s not easy, but it’s painfully simple. Beams of sunlight are in the living room by the time Tohma finally falls asleep, one hand instinctively clutched around and handful of Ryuichi’s shirt, his body curved in an almost complete U shape to shut the world out.

_No matter what it takes, Eiri, no matter what I have to do… I’ll never let anyone hurt you again._

**Author's Note:**

> I sat down intending to write Eiri/Shuichi fluff and this happened instead. Oops. But I guess it's just as well, because this is something I've always wanted to explore. Tohma and Ryu's relationship fascinates me. In some ways Tohma is a character I'm not always sure I like but then I really think about it and realize I love him. He fascinates me too. I'll probably write about him and his weirdness again.


End file.
